


The Swivel Chair Pamphlet

by neglectedrainbow



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (not like that come on people), Gen, He Loves It, M/M, That's right, alexander hamilton had a torrent affair, and he wrote it down right there, but he does, everyone else is only mentioned - Freeform, for all y'all that didn't know about, hamilton doesn't want to like it, jefferson was a total dick irl, live in awe, so this is all about the musical, t.jeffs and a.ham flirt by using chairs, t.jeffs' most important invention, the swivel chair, with a chair, yaaay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:24:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neglectedrainbow/pseuds/neglectedrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the actual fuck?” </p><p>Jefferson spins around, slightly startled, and glances at Hamilton momentarily.  “What is the problem, my dear Secretary?” Jefferson purrs, leaning back in his chair with a smug look across his features. </p><p>Or: Thomas Jefferson is credited with the invention of the swivel chair.  He wrote the Declaration of Independence while sitting in a swivel chair.  He did legal work in a swivel chair.  He probably argued with Alexander Hamilton in a swivel chair.  And the world needed a story about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Swivel Chair Pamphlet

**Author's Note:**

> Thomas Jefferson is credited with the invention of the swivel chair by modifying the commonplace chair, connecting an iron spindle into the chair’s center, separating the top and bottom into a loose holder and seat, and enabling the chair to move in a circular motion on casters. He wrote the Declaration of Independence while sitting in a swivel chair, among other things. I promised myself that I'd never write a fanfic about the Founding Fathers, but, well...some promises are meant to be broken, after all.

“What the actual fuck?” 

Jefferson spins around, slightly startled, and glances at Hamilton momentarily. “What is the problem, my dear Secretary?” Jefferson purrs, leaning back in his chair with a smug look across his features. The thing is wide, circular, with a strange sort of wheel-like contraption below it.

“You heard me,” Hamilton counters. “What the actual fuck is that?”

A feline grin creeps over Jefferson’s face. “Oh, this?” he taunts, turning his seat back and forth, back and forth.

Hamilton stares, beyond perplexed. He’s never seen a chair of this caliber. “I don’t understand,”  
he begins.

“Why,” Jefferson chuckles, “you never do.”

Hamilton glares at him. “There simply isn’t a point.”

“Must there always be a point, Hammie?”

“Don’t call me that.” That is a nickname reserved solely for John and Lafayette, purely for those few who actually care about him, deeply.

Jefferson ignores Hamilton’s protest, continuing uninterrupted. “Sometimes, in life, you’ll find, when you’re as mature and sophisticated as I am, that some things don’t need a point.” Hamilton bristles, ready, as always, to argue. “Some items…” Jefferson trails off. “Well, they just are; they simply exist.”

“It’s useless.”

“Enjoyment is not useless,” Jefferson counters. He rolls his shoulders back, sitting up from his lounging position. "Oftentimes,” he murmurs, bearing his teeth in a quasi-smile, “pleasure is the most useful thing in the world.”

Hamilton scoffs, looking away, and desperately attempts to control the heat rising on his cheeks. Jefferson snickers, folding his arms. “Look here, Hamilton,” Jefferson commands. Hamilton tries resisting for a few moments, staring pointedly at a wall. He can’t even remember the purpose of his visit. Something about lighthouses, he thinks vaguely. Eventually, his own curiosity outweighs any need for defiance, and his gaze drifts to Jefferson.

“Yes?” he asks, injecting as much venom and haughty annoyance into the one word as humanly possible.

For once, Jefferson doesn’t rise to the occasion. He just smiles again, that deadly, flirtatious smile, collected and cool, exuding an air of a calm Southern breeze. “You see, Secretary, this chair is not just a bizarre contraption. It is the work of genius.” Hamilton barely suppresses a snicker. “You see, while, often, the feeble-minded cannot conceive of such a splendid thing, I have just invented the single most astonishing creation ever.”

Hamilton raises a single eyebrow, pressing his lips into a thin line. Jefferson places his feet on the ground, smirking up at Hamilton. He pauses for a moment before flinging his body around, using momentum to spin the chair around completely. The top, with Jefferson perched atop the seat, spins perfectly on its axis. Without his consent, Hamilton’s mouth drops open. Jefferson swivels around completely nearly seven entire times.

Hamilton has never seen something like this in his entire life. And he has seen a lot. Hamilton has fought alongside George Washington, ratified the Constitution, created America’s national bank, and dragged this country out of daunting, painful debt, and yet, somehow, seeing Thomas Jefferson whirl around atop a chair tops all of that. “Impressed?” 

Hamilton narrows his eyes. “No,” he huffs, sounding to all the world like a petulant child.

“Try it.”

Hamilton gasps, “Never!”

“You know you want to.” Jefferson stands up, gesturing to the now-free seat.

“I don’t,” Hamilton retorts, crossing his arms across his chest.

Jefferson takes a step towards Hamilton. He smooths the front of his magenta waistcoat, that never-ending smirk still covering his handsome features. Hamilton tries not to look at him too closely. _We’re supposed to hate each other,_ Hamilton reminds himself. _What would Washington think if he heard that you sat on Jefferson’s chair? You hate him, remember? Don’t think about how attractive he is, or his perfect hair and teeth or his smooth voice. Think about the Cabinet Meetings. Yes, yes, those. Think about banking and arguments and him taking Madison, as a perfectly wonderful Federalist, and converting him into a life-ruining, narcissistic Democratic Republican._ “I’m supposed to hate you,” Hamilton murmurs.

Jefferson reaches out a hand, a silent offering. “Yeah, yeah, we’re passed office-hours now, Alexander. Don’t feel bad for wanting it.”

Hamilton glances over at the chair. It’s wooden, a single, polished, ovular piece placed atop a normal-looking base. He can’t quite make out how it works, and that makes the whole endeavor all the more exciting. Hamilton glances up at Jefferson, and their dark eyes meet for just a second. Jefferson nods, almost imperceptibly, and there’s no turning back now.

Giving up any hope of fighting or honor, Hamilton sighs. He steps forward, around Jefferson, and examines the seat more closely. It is actually decently impressive. Only decently, of course. “I wouldn’t want to inflate your ego even further,” Hamilton states, straightening his back.

Suddenly, Hamilton notices that Jefferson has more than half a foot of height over him. Hamilton is still coming to terms with that. He wonders absentmindedly if he could purchase specially lifted shoes, or perhaps invent some height-boosting mechanism. If Jefferson can invent bizarre items, so can he, only he’ll do it even better. “Well,” Jefferson chuckles, reaching up to fluff his hair, “I’d dare say that my ego’s already reached complete capacity. I think it’s simply unable to inflate any further.”

“One could hope that with enough inflation, your ego would pop,” Hamilton counters, not taking his eyes off the chair.

Jefferson ignores this statement. “Do it, Hamilton. Sit on the chair.”

And so, with immense effort and difficulty, Hamilton places himself upon the chair. It’s more like a throne, now, though, since he’s occupying it.

With another smile, Jefferson nods. “Spin it.”

Hamilton looks up at him, his deep brown eyes wide. There will be no going back after this. Their relationship will never be the same. After all, can two men truly continue to call themselves mortal enemies after sharing such an experience? Will Hamilton be forced to become a Democratic Republican? No, never, he’d rather drop out than do such a thing. How would he ever be able to explain this to Washington, or Burr, or, even worse, his wife? This could be life-ruining! He supposes that he could probably write a pamphlet about it later, though, scandalize the entire town yet again. Perched upon the chair, however, Hamilton knows that there is simply no turning back.

He breathes out deeply, preparing himself as Jefferson looks on with a deep pleasure. With utmost gusto and vigor, Hamilton spins himself around, and, by God, the swivel chair is even better than his wildest imagination. Jefferson chuckles and joins him, grabbing the back of the seat and using his strength to spin Hamilton around again and again. The two have never laughed with such rigor.

After Hamilton leaves, as he, at one point, must, the men never mention the event again. They continue to argue in court, bicker in the hallways, and articulate the downfalls of one another. Neither of them mention that fateful day, the hours spent as the two of them took turns in the new chair, spinning each other around like small children on a playground. They never forget the feeling of fresh, office air as they spun wildly around.

And, so what if Hamilton’s old stool is replaced by a specially designed swivel chair? Besides, it’s not like Hamilton buys three more of them, outfitting his entire house with new swivel chairs. It’s not like both Hamilton and Jefferson snicker at Washington’s dull, stable seat during discussions. And they certainly do not daydream about each other’s expressions of glee and happiness every time they take a seat.

(Except they do.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are my life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. I will respond to and read them all. Kudos and thoughts are greatly appreciated! Come find me at neglectedrainbow.tumblr.com
> 
> Oh, and as for that lighthouse bit: fun fact, according to Ron Chernow's biography, Alexander Hamilton "scrawled more mundane letters about lighthouse construction than any other single topic." So, there's that. And IRL Hamilton actually thought Jefferson's swivel chairs were beyond idiotic (he called them "turn-about chairs" and mocked Jefferson for inventing them). He probably liked them under all that bravado, though. So. Thanks!


End file.
